


3 Sentence Ficlet Compilation

by cross



Category: Persona 2
Genre: Canon Queer Relationship, F/M, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-13
Updated: 2011-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:23:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cross/pseuds/cross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten ~3-sentence Persona 2 fics I wrote for requests on Tumblr. Warning for light smut, very mild bloodplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 Sentence Ficlet Compilation

## "Tatsuya, at his big brother's wedding."

The suit was stiff and starched, with creases only in the black bowtie he’d be ripping off as soon as the ceremony was over, and he was sure he hadn’t stood up straight for this long since the day he had graduated from high school (another day like this one that his parents had started believing would never come). And yet for all of Katsuya’s flaws, for every time he had nagged him about studying harder and for every time he refused to answer Tatsuya’s questions about where his old lighter came from, he wouldn’t dream of missing his brother’s wedding, and he wouldn’t settle for sitting next to his mother in the front row. Perhaps it had taken more than ten years to sink in, but he was his older brother’s “best man”, and even though smiles were not his strength, he managed one to match the older and wiser beam of the man at the altar.

## "Tatsuya and Jun, sharing."

“It’s too big,” Jun whines, taking it out of his mouth and running his finger along its length as if to demonstrate its sheer size, with sweet stickiness gathering on his skin. He slips his finger in between his lips and sucks off the remainder, frowning at Tatsuya expectantly, while Tatsuya only looks away and mutters something about having had enough already.

But it only takes temptation a moment to kick in, and he takes the half-eaten frozen banana from Jun’s hands, finishing off the last few bites for him, and quietly bemoaning the fact that Jun had left no sprinkles.

## "Tatsuya/Jun, at a party hosted by Eikichi."

It was only by force that Eikichi had gotten them into the closet — a heady shove, and a promise that they wouldn’t have to play any more party games if they did this one.

“So what now?” Tatsuya mutters, all too aware that Jun is so close he can hear his breathing and feel his tiny hand shaking as hard as his nerves.

“Ah…’seven minutes in heaven’, wasn’t it,” Jun stammers, and out of desperation to close the small taunting gap between them, he lays his jittery hand over Tatsuya’s and leans in for a kiss — on the chin, rather than on his lips, no thanks to almost pitch black darkness and no help from the light coming in under the crack of the closet’s door.

## "Maya and Jun, weary."

Her legs shook like jelly with each step feeling like it would be her last, the leather of her boots cutting into her heel and sleep heaving over her, waiting for her to misstep and stop the group’s progress for the night. But Maya was no weak woman, nor beaten or dead or forgotten, and she took each step with a smile; and when Jun’s headaches brought him to tears, she had strength inside to hug him until his eyes were dry. _A mother’s love,_ she thought, _is carrying your children on your back when they lack the strength to stand on their own, and teaching them how to walk without tripping, and being there to apply the bandage when they fall._

## "Eikichi/Lisa, sharing a scarf."

“Ehhh, c’mon, Ginko, it’s freezing out here,” Eikichi begs, reaching for the end of her scarf, only to have it yanked away.

“No way, you’re the stupid one who forgot to bundle up! You can turn as blue as your hair for all I care!”

Eikichi grits his teeth and makes another indignant grab for her scarf. “You’re tellin’ me you really need all o’ that thing? I know your head’s not that big — _gaaaah!_ ”

In the end, the heat in Lisa’s knuckles did wonders for warming Eikichi’s cheeks.

## "Tatsuya/Jun, Jun tries to teach Tatsuya flower language."

Tatsuya narrows his eyes at the red rose in his hand, ignoring the shallow prick’s worth of blood trickling down his thumb and making a silent vow to never pick up one of Jun’s flowers again without giving it a thrice-over for thorns.

“And what does this one mean?” he asks, holding it out to Jun, who takes it with a coy smile and brushes the bloom across the bridge of his nose, the petals sticking to his skin when he inhales its scent.

Jun sighs, reaches for Tatsuya’s bleeding thumb, brings it a hair’s breadth from his own lips, and mutters, “Tatsuya, if you haven’t figured that one out yet…”

## "Lisa/Tatsuya, first time."

Perhaps she should have expected that it wouldn’t be anything like she had read in novels, where the strong and handsome lead carries his girl off to his bedroom and makes gentle love to her on sheets covered in rose petals; hell, she wasn’t _that_ naive and she felt like she had enough experience with men to know they weren’t that romantic or that smart, even if said men were hardly the type of people she would have let touch her beyond the standard linking of arms they expected for their yen. Lisa knew he was shy (and indecisive even now), but none of her stories had prepared her for what to do with a man who can’t look at your bare chest without flushing red.

“Sorry, I don’t know much about this stuff,” Tatsuya mumbled, and Lisa beamed at him in reassurance. “Hey, don’t worry, chingyan! All that matters is that we’re together, right?”

## "Jun/Tatsuya, biting and blood."

When Jun sinks his teeth into the nape of Tatsuya’s neck, he doesn’t mean to draw blood (it’s a playful nip rather than a gnash, but nothing too gentle). Tatsuya hisses when the skin tears in between Jun’s bites, unable to see the stream of red but able to feel the warmth of his own life trickling down his shoulder, and able to feel the hot wet lap of Jun’s tongue against his tiny prick of a wound. But with them every turn deserves another, and he jerks Jun’s hips downwards into his lap, the blood forgotten for the moment while Tatsuya fills him and shows him that he’s not the only one who knows how to mix pain with pleasure.

## "Tatsuya/Jun, snowballing."

Tatsuya zips up his pants and sits back, watching Jun wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand and thinking that it’s incredible having a lover who accepts all parts of you without question or complaint, from the beautiful to the less so, and it would be a hideous lie if he said it didn’t make his climax that much better when Jun swallows with a smile. But now Jun is quiet, his lips are shut tight and he’s fumbling with his tongue in a way that draws Tatsuya’s concern; “Are you okay?”, he mutters, laying a hand over one of Jun’s and squeezing it, and hoping that he’s not hurt or disrespected him, despite good intentions. Jun glances down at his hand and nods, before sliding into Tatsuya’s lap, barely giving him a chance to catch his breath while pressing his mouth open against his and slipping Tatsuya a bit of his own come. Tatsuya has no choice but to swallow it with Jun otherwise occupying his mouth and distracting all of his senses, and he could complain, of course, but it made little sense to split hairs over what belonged to who when they were the same and shared both hearts and bodies.

## "Eikichi/Lisa, makeup."

He was the only guy she knew who wore more makeup than she did, though that wasn’t saying much, given that she had little need for cosmetics with that natural complexion the girls in her class would kill for — indeed, _had_ killed for, or even died for, whether they had asked the Joker to make them beautiful or to turn boys’ heads in their directions, and they all met the same gritty end, much to her pain and chagrin.

Lisa watches Eikichi as he cakes white on his cheeks, while trying not to think that he doesn’t really look that bad with a bare face; _handsome_ , even, with sharp features that didn’t quite manage to hide the dumb baby face she recalled from a brief but painful memory.

“ _Fan ah_ , what’s the point? Everyone’s still gonna know it’s you under all that clown makeup!”

Eikichi had learned by now that there was rhyme and reason behind the snarls, the unwarranted mean remarks, and the scathing insults, and he was never above serving one right back, but he had also learned the difference between when it was okay to trade barbs and when she was wearing a shoddy mask for her pain, lashing out at him like a child in hopes of getting his attention. He shrugs and stares back at her in his mirror, with lips pursed and eyes firmly set on her frown, and says, “It’s not about hidin’ anything. Not anymore.”


End file.
